Where once you were nothing
by blodeuweddbach
Summary: It didn't take Loki long to forget the wife he should never have had. It took even less time to remember her again, when he finds her on Sakkar. A 'what if' fic exploring how Sigyn might have fit into the MCU Thor franchise, and how her relationship with Loki developed over time. Contains spoilers for Thor:Ragnarok. (Loki/Sigyn).
1. Prologue

**Note: Spoilers for Thor: Ragnarok ahead**. The events in this story take place during and prior to the events of MCU's Thor film franchise.

* * *

PROLOGUE

Sakkar was a bloodthirsty planet.

That was clear enough to Loki as he sat in the Grandmaster's box, watching the crowds beyond the glass cheer and shout for the fighting to begin. It reminded him vaguely of hounds baying for blood. Such cruel sport was frowned upon on Asgard; it was considered the height of base vulgarity to enjoy watching people in pain, to place money on their lives.

Despite himself, however, Loki couldn't help but find it a little thrilling. The odds seemed stacked against Thor, certainly. The Grandmaster's champion was reputed to be a fearsome creature, unbeaten in every match over the last several years within the arena. Thor Odinson looked pitiful in comparison, standing as small as an ant down in the ring. Loki was struck by how insignificant his brother looked. It made something small rise in his chest, something he hated to admit felt a lot like concern.

Any worry Loki might have felt on Thor's behalf, however, was tempered easily by other feelings. It was satisfying, petty as that may have been, for the golden prince of Asgard to be made to prove himself, while he, Loki, was favoured enough to be permitted into the Grandmaster's box.

He also had to grudgingly admit the fact that Thor had always managed to linger like a bad smell despite anyone's attempts to kill him. His brother had a habit of surviving, and Loki didn't think he would give that habit up any time soon.

In fact, he'd placed a very large bet on that.

On the far end of the sofa, Loki heard the Grandmaster clear his throat and begin to speak. His voice echoed through the arena, mirrored by flickering images of his face that appeared seemingly out of thin air. Loki couldn't help but be impressed as he waited for the introductions to be over.

"Ladies and gentleman, I give you your champion!"

No sooner had the words left the Grandmaster's mouth did something move at the far end of the arena. The 'champion' tore through its metal door as though it were made of paper. Loki watched with mounting horror as the beast blundered its way into the arena below, magnified a hundredfold by the holograms projected around the stands.

 _Oh gods no. Not him._

It felt as though the blood had left his face as Loki watched the Hulk roar his fury skyward. The crowd roared back in response, getting to their feet as though they knew the bloodshed they had paid for was imminent. Loki could almost feel the pain of their last encounter as he watched the vast green monster pause, eyes fixed on Thor.

Thor, the fool, was smiling up at them. "He's a friend from work!"

His brother said something else, too, but Loki was no longer listening. He was frightened, he realised with some disgust as he sat rigid in his seat. _Frightened of some freakish mortal._ It was laughable, really, but he had never felt further from laughing in his life. He wished Thor would get on with the fighting, before the beast looked up and recognised Loki sitting there.

He dreaded to think how strong its memory might be.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long for the fight to begin. No sooner had Thor's delight in seeing his old friend hit him did he realise it was all misplaced. The Hulk charged at full force toward him anyway. Loki let out a shaking breath.

The Grandmaster, who had been watching the progress of his champion with eager eyes, heard the sigh and looked over at him.

"Oh my, you're not looking well. Another drink for our guest, please," the Grandmaster called to the gaggle of serving girls waiting behind him. Loki was aware of a movement on his left, before a cup of deep red wine was offered before him. _Good._ He enjoyed wine, particularly red. It had always helped settle his nerves. He took it from the girl's hands, glancing between the cup and the events down in the arena. Things were not looking good for Thor. Loki took a deep sip of wine, and the servant moved back against the wall.

After a few minutes, however, the tables had begun to turn between the fighters. Thor was matching the Hulk's every strike, even beginning to best him. Loki watched with burgeoning interest as his brother landed a particularly strong blow that sent the monster flying into the opposite wall. _I may have my winnings sooner than I thought,_ he mused, taking another sip from his cup. It was very good, he thought briefly. Rich and fruity, like the wines Frigga had kept in her chambers for his visits. _The Grandmaster is a man of taste,_ thought Loki, _in wine if not in champions._

No sooner had the thought entered his mind, however, did Thor do something impeccably stupid. He had stopped fighting, and was approaching the fallen Hulk slowly, talking all the while. From the few clear words ringing around the arena, it appeared he was trying to remind Banner of their friendship and their days fighting together on Midgard. Loki closed his eyes.

 _You utter fool._

The gasp of the crowd, and the laughter of the Grandmaster, made Loki open his eyes again. Thor was being battered against the ground like a ragdoll, hanging limp from the Hulk's enormous green fist until he was tossed aside, wheezing.

"Ha!" Loki shouted before he could stop himself, jumping to his feet and staring down at his brother's coughing form. Wine sloshed from his cup on to the floor. "That's how it feels!"

Thor managed to pick himself up, coughing heavily. Loki knew exactly how he was feeling; winded, bruised and utterly humiliated. He felt no pity. In fact, he was revelling that he at least was not the only one to have suffered such injustice at the hands of the Hulk.

The fight had continued again in full swing. Thor, having been completely disabused of the idea that his friend Banner was still somewhere within the muscled confines of the beast, fought with a ferocity that Loki recognised from the battles of their youth. He watched unblinkingly, cheering his brother on silently despite himself.

A flicker of movement on the floor to his left momentarily caught Loki's attention, and he dragged his gaze away from the arena for a few moments. The serving-girl who had brought him the cup was now mopping up the wine he had spilt in his vindication. Loki hadn't looked at her before, but now that he _was_ looking, she was rather odd. Where the other women considered beautiful enough to serve the Grandmaster directly were conspicuous in their looks, hailing from worlds Loki had never known, this woman seemed comparatively familiar. Her ashen hair was tied at the nape of her neck into a complicated bun, and the hands that scrubbed at the floor were pale and unblemished. He couldn't see her face, as her eyes were focused on the ground, but Loki got the vague impression that she was avoiding his gaze.

Any attention he might have given to this, however, was soon taken by the events down in the arena. Loki looked up to see Thor, close to victory, about to strike his final blow… All other thoughts seemed forgotten in his mind… He let himself smile. _You lose, monster._

He heard the Grandmaster gasp, saw a flicker of movement to his right, and suddenly Thor crumpled to the ground. Blue light crackled around him as he began convulsing from some sort of shock. _A cheat._ Furious, Loki watched as the Hulk got to his feet, roaring, and began to climb the edges of the arena while the crowd bellowed their support. He wondered if they knew what had just happened. They had all likely bet on the Hulk, and didn't care _how_ he won as long as they got their money.

The crowd had begun to chant now, as the Hulk clambered to the top of the arena. Loki watched with dull anger as the creature launched itself off into thin air, falling in a streak of green toward Thor's prone form on the ground below. He had to turn his head. The loud thud and the deafening cheers of the crowd were all he needed to know.

Once the winning announcement was read out, the Grandmaster turned to him. "He's tougher than I expected," the man said, a smile curling his painted blue lips. Loki momentarily thought about stabbing him. "My champion landed right on him, and he's still alive."

Loki looked down into the arena, where some healers had come with a stretcher to carry the unconscious Thor away. Despite himself, he felt a little relieved.

"I hope the fight was to your liking," the Grandmaster continued, his eyes fixed unnervingly on Loki's. In the weeks he had spent on Sakkar, he had come to know that even the most passive of expressions on the ancient being's face could hide murderous intent. Loki had never encountered a more unbalanced individual, and he had been to Midgard.

"It was eye-opening," Loki offered with a smile. Flattery seemed the best course with the Grandmaster. Loki had always been good at flattery. He thought for something else to say that wouldn't betray his anger from being cheated out of his winnings. "The wine, too, was very good."

"Yes, I could tell you were enjoying it," the Grandmaster said, with an inexplicable smile. "I could also see that you were enjoying my girls."

That caught Loki off guard. "Pardon?"

The Grandmaster laughed. It pulled the blue stripe painted across his bottom lip taut, until the cracks in the skin opened wide.

"I saw you staring. _She's_ a little too quiet for my tastes, but if _you_ like her we could come to some sort of… financial arrangement."

Loki felt as though the conversation was getting dangerously out of his control. "Forgive me, Grandmaster, but that was not my intent." He wondered how many other women the Grandmaster had tried to trade with his honoured 'guests'. "The young lady merely looked a little familiar."

"Familiar?" The Grandmaster repeated, his smile widening. He looked over Loki's shoulder. "Did you hear that, my dear? Come a little closer."

Footsteps to his right told Loki that the serving-girl had approached them. He could see her in profile now; her nose turned up slightly at the end, her cheekbones were high, her eyes hazel. Loki watched her with growing shock, saying nothing at all.

"Your name, please, my dear?"

The woman paused for a few moments. "Servant 862887, Grandmaster." Her voice was soft. The familiarity of it seemed to burn through his mind.

"Look at this man for me," the Grandmaster asked her, pointing toward Loki. There were a few moments of hesitation. Then she looked him straight in the eye.

"See, he's not all that bad to look at, is he?" The Grandmaster joked, smiling at Loki. Loki wondered what his game was in all this, but felt perhaps there was none. _He is simply a madman._ "Do you recognise her?"

Loki looked at the woman in front of him. She was a head shorter than him, standing so straight it was as if there were a metal rod where her spine should have been. Her eyes were framed by dark lashes as she stared at him, the expression within them utterly blank. Her nose and cheeks were lightly dusted with freckles.

There were less of them than he remembered.

"I was mistaken," Loki answered, smiling slightly. The woman did not return it. He looked back at the Grandmaster. "I'm afraid I don't know her."

Smiling, the Grandmaster clapped his hands together. "Well then, there's nothing to keep us here. You're welcome to join us for dinner down in the lounge."

The woman sensed her cue to leave, bowing to the Grandmaster and turning on her heel to walk away. Loki watched her walk away for a moment, before turning back to his host.

"That's most kind, thank you."

The Grandmaster lowered his voice for a moment. "Remember what I said, though. If you want her, we can come to some arrangement."

"That won't be necessary," Loki answered, more forcefully than he'd meant to. The Grandmaster simply smiled again, and walked out of the room himself. Loki stood there for a little while, watching the crowds file out of the arena beyond the glass. All thought of the fight had left his mind for the time being.

He thought of the expressionless gaze the woman had given him, even when the Grandmaster couldn't see. It was as though he meant nothing at all to her, as though she could not recall ever having known him. Despite himself, despite the indifference he had shown her all those years ago, Loki found himself insulted at her welcome.

She _was_ his wife, after all.


	2. Chapter 1

**Note:** Sigyn as portrayed in this story is a mixture of mythological and Marvel influences and my own interpretation of her character. Please be aware that her backstory may deviate somewhat from traditional mythological or Marvel depictions. Thank you for reading!

* * *

Loki of Asgard was alive.

Sigyn stared at her reflection, repeating the words over and over in her head. It didn't help to make them more believable, even when she had seen him with her own eyes. Her head felt foggy, as though she had not quite woken from a dream. The only thing keeping her certain that she was not asleep was the dull pain of her fingernails digging into her palm as she tried to keep her hands from shaking.

It had been three years since she'd landed on Sakkar. In that time, she had gotten used to many things. Her confinement to that planet for the remainder of her lifetime was a given; she had long stopped waiting for an Asgardian search party to come and rescue her. Her new role as a servant was easy enough to bear, as it had kept her so busy in those first few months that she barely had time to consider the futility of her circumstances.

Sigyn had also learned to accept the fact that her husband was well and truly dead. There had been some glimmer of hope in her still, when she had been on Asgard, that all was not as it seemed. After all, Loki had cheated death before, when he had fallen from the Bifrost only to be returned years later in chains. It was that hope that had sent her to Svartalfheim. If she found his body, which hadn't been recovered, then she could resign herself to mourning him with the rest of Asgard like the dutiful wife she had always been. But if it wasn't there, then perhaps there was still a chance…

That little light of wishful thinking had long since died. It was on Svartalfheim that she had fallen through the portal that took her to Sakkar, where she had come to see her hope for the childish dream that it was. How Loki would have mocked her, she had reasoned, if he had known what she'd been thinking. She knew he would have laughed to know she had gotten herself stuck on Sakkar merely for the thought of seeing him again.

Or so she'd thought. He hadn't laughed, earlier, when he had first seen her plainly in the Grandmaster's box. It had taken every ounce of strength she'd possessed to keep her face passive, expressionless, as he'd looked right into her eyes. Sigyn didn't know what he had told the Grandmaster, but she didn't think it would benefit either of them to allow her shock to be made evident. Especially given the Grandmaster's penchant for melting people at his slightest displeasure.

Loki hadn't laughed at her at all, and that fact nearly made her want to cry as she sat in the silence of her room. That in itself was surprising to her; she hadn't cried since her early days in the Arena, when she had realised all that was lost to her. After that, there had been no tears left to give.

Sigyn looked at her face in the mirror, scrutinising every detail. She wondered what Loki had thought, to gaze on it after so long. If she was honest, Sigyn barely recognised herself any more. The shadows under her eyes had deepened and the corners of her mouth sank down in a permanent frown. With a sigh, she allowed the façade that had begun to sap at her strength finally fade away. The dull ashen blonde of her hair suddenly became streaked with silver; her hands, folded neatly in her lap, turned chapped and sore where she had taken to biting them.

Loki of Asgard was alive. That much she knew. It didn't make sense, didn't seem to have sunk into her mind fully just yet, but it couldn't be denied. He'd stood barely an arm's length away from her not hours ago.

Why, then, didn't she feel happy?

Something in the room suddenly changed. It was almost imperceptible, the lightest ripple of the air, but Sigyn had felt it so many times before that it could no longer take her by surprise. She didn't even need to look up from her hands to know who was standing behind her.

It didn't stop her head from spinning dangerously.

"Why are you here?" Her voice sounded hoarse, weak. The figure behind her let out a soft breath.

"So you do recognise me." Loki's voice was light, as though he was smiling. Sigyn glanced up into the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection was smirking right at her. It made something in her chest tighten. "Good. I thought you'd completely lost your wits."

Sigyn let her eyes roam over her husband's reflection. Or, if she was being precise, the reflection of an image of her husband. She had no doubt that he was not truly here in her room. She knew his tricks too well to be fooled on that count.

Realising she wasn't going to offer him a reply, Loki continued, the smile fading somewhat from his mouth. "You look a little different from earlier."

His eyes had flickered to the streaks of silver running through her hair. Sigyn tried to smile; all she managed was a weak curl of her mouth, corners twitching at the effort. "You're not the only one who knows tricks."

"How do you manage it, so far from Asgard?" Loki asked her, a familiar interest flickering to life in his blue-green eyes. "The magical energy here is very low."

Sigyn would have laughed, if she'd had the energy. She suddenly felt exhausted; she supposed the total confusion her mind was experiencing had something to do with it. _You were dead,_ she wanted to shout at him. _You were dead, and now you're not, and all you want to ask me about is some damn parlour trick._

"There's enough energy for me to alter my appearance a little, to suit the Grandmaster's standards" Sigyn answered instead, unsure of how she was managing to speak normally when her mind was swirling chaotically. "It comes at the price of my own strength, however."

Loki watched her for a moment, head tilted slightly. "Interesting."

Whatever thread of patience she had managed to cling on to suddenly snapped. "Why are you here?" Sigyn asked again, voice raised in barely suppressed frustration. She was angry, she realised with some surprise. Angry that he could send his image into her room so casually, as though things were the same as they'd ever been, the way they were all those years ago on Asgard. Angry that he could smirk at her in the mirror when she had lost everything.

"I came to see why you pretended to not know me earlier," Loki answered, as though it were simple. "Not very polite, really, Sigyn, seeing as we haven't seen each other in so long. But I'm guessing your little charade was for the Grandmaster's benefit. Clever."

 _Clever._ The way he said it made the strange anger rear its head again, and she stood up from her chair, turning around to face the image full-on.

"No." The word shook dangerously on its way out of her mouth. _Don't you dare cry,_ her mind shouted at her, _not after all this time._ "I meant, why are you _here_? On Sakkar? For all I know, you've been dead these last three years. All of Asgard went into mourning for you, a brave hero who died protecting us from the Dark Elves. And yet, here you are." Sigyn took a deep breath. "I want to know _why._ "

The image looked her in the eye. "Well, I'm clearly not dead," Loki answered, the smirk not quite gone from his face. "I spent the last three years very much alive and well. You might as well know; I disguised myself as Odin, sent that old fool to Midgard short of most of his memory, and ruled Asgard in his stead. Odin… Odin is dead." He paused for a moment. "His daughter, Hela, returned from her imprisonment to take over Asgard. Thor and I fell through the Bifrost trying to escape her. Hence how I arrived here."

It took a few moments for Sigyn to absorb what was being said. When it sank in fully, she managed to find her words again.

"I see."

She could think of nothing else to say. What could make the reality any better? She had no love for Odin Allfather, so couldn't feel any sorrow at his loss. Sigyn had never even heard of anyone called Hela; the prospect of her ruling Asgard didn't seem promising, but she was not on Asgard anymore. It was pointless dwelling on that for the time being.

Loki's role in his admission was easier for her to process. He'd pretended to be dead those three years. It had been that charade that had led her to this fate, to be trapped alone on Sakkar. It felt like a knife to her abdomen to learn the source of all her misery was the man she called her husband.

But, then again, had it ever been any other way?

"I could ask the same question of you," Loki continued, not allowing the silence to stretch between them again. "How did you come to be here? The last I'd heard, you married some nobleman or other."

The words were a blow to the chest. Sigyn had done all she could to forget _that_ unfortunate chain of events. She grit her teeth.

"That was years ago," she managed, "after you… after you'd fallen from the Bifrost. But it's good to know that no one noticed I was gone for three long years." The words came out more bitterly than she'd anticipated. "Tell me, did you not once wonder what had become of your wife?"

Loki shrugged one shoulder, eyes leaving her face for the first time since his image had entered her room. "I supposed you were happy with your new life. I didn't wish to intrude on that. Besides, what interest would Odin have in you? It would have raised questions."

She supposed it made sense, somewhere in the more rational part of her mind. The less rational part, the part that knew him better than that, could hear the omissions in the explanation. _You were happy in your new life, too_ , Sigyn wanted to say. She held her tongue. _You didn't need me anymore._

It might have hurt, if she hadn't come to that conclusion many years before.

"I see." Those two words again, hiding everything she wished to tell him. "Well, to answer your question, I came to Sakkar through a portal on Svartalfheim."

Loki's image raised one dark brow, looking at her carefully again. "Why were you on… Oh." He trailed off, realising the meaning behind her words as quickly as ever. It was strange, Sigyn thought, to be so familiar with him even when she had thought him dead for three years. It made her light-headedness all the worse.

There was a silence, during which the two of them merely looked at each other. Not for the first time in her life, Sigyn wished that she could know what he was thinking. There was a barrier between what he said and all that went through his mind; she had never been able to glimpse through it, try as she might.

So much else had changed about him. His hair was longer than she had last seen it, when he had been named King of Asgard while Odin slept. He was older, too- not visibly so, for Asgardians aged too slowly for a handful of years to be evident on his face. But there was something different about his eyes. Sigyn wondered what he had seen that had allowed such sadness to creep into them.

"You searched for me," Loki finally said, in an unreadable voice. "And here I am. Yet you aren't happy."

His openness caught her off guard for a moment. Her husband had never been one to get to the point so quickly. She looked at him again, at the pale marble-like skin of his face, the way it crinkled next to his eyes. He was right, she knew. She _wasn't_ happy. The acute ache where her heart should have been told her what she had already expected; despite everything, the years of distance between them and all of her mourning, she still loved him as dearly as she ever had.

She was glad that he was alive, there was no mistaking that either. Just seeing him smirk at her had made her realise that much.

But happy? She hadn't been that in a long time.

"I'm not," Sigyn conceded quietly.

"Why?"

The word was barely more than a whisper. It was the first time he had spoken to her so softly in many years. She found that the words came easily after that.

"Because I lost you long ago, Loki."

The God of Mischief looked at her for what felt like a long time. It could have only been moments, however, before he reached out and took her hand.

Sigyn's head spun as he lifted it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles. _He's really here._ The realisation confused her almost as much as his sudden appearance in the Grandmaster's box had. _It isn't an image_. She recalled what he had said about the weak magical energy on Sakkar, and wondered how it had taken her so long to realise that he wouldn't have been able to sustain such an illusion for so long. She knew as well as anyone how much of his energy that took.

He was gone before Sigyn could ask him anything else. She didn't feel equal to trying to stop him anyway, shocked as she was. The ache in her chest had worsened as she watched the door close behind Loki.

It occurred to her, vaguely, that she'd never asked him if he was happy to see her.


End file.
